


lay your sleeping head, my love

by crooked



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Modern Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2018-01-21 17:12:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1557956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crooked/pseuds/crooked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras has unexpected company.</p>
            </blockquote>





	lay your sleeping head, my love

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [deadpokerface](http://deadpokerface.tumblr.com/post/84462723640/grantaire-really-wont-ever-get-used-to-enjolras)'s _incredibly_ gorgeous, lovely, precious art.
> 
> title borrowed from 'lullaby' by w.h. auden.

“Thanks again! I’ll be by tomorrow with a tentative budget and the rest of the information you need,” Enjolras says as he walks out the door. The administrative assistant at the Center for Student Involvement lifts a hand and waves, smiling pleasantly as Enjolras departs.

He pulls out his phone and fires off a text to Combeferre right away. He is much more of a numbers guy than Enjolras. Getting their organization all set up with a bank account and looking into whether or not they qualify for tax-exempt status and figuring out a rough outline of a budget is right up his alley. It’s a lot of work, but they knew it would be once the plan hatched in the living room of their small apartment. Hard work is never something either of them has ever shied away from, and the payoff is going to be well worth it. Becoming a structured organization that’s fully recognized by the university will be a huge step toward helping Enjolras and his friends realize their goal of changing the world.

Enjolras leaves campus and catches a bus home. He spends the entire ride exchanging texts with Combeferre, the last one sent before his stop a string of expletives when Combeferre reveals that he isn’t actually home but tucked under Courfeyrac’s arm. He’s not actually mad at him, but he had been really anxious to get everything started and now had a huge amount of excited energy coursing through him. The response comes from Courfeyrac, and it’s a snapshot of him pressing a kiss to the temple of a grinning Combeferre. Enjolras has to smile, even as he rolls his eyes and sighs.

He gets off the bus and starts to walk toward their apartment building. Enjolras is all caught up on his reading and his coursework. He supposes he could just spend the afternoon relaxing, but he doesn’t really know _how_ to do leisure time. He’s tried and it’s only ever ended in miserable failure. Just as the idea strikes him to see if Grantaire has a free moment, Enjolras gets one more text from Combeferre:

> _ps you have company_

Enjolras replies, asking him what he means by that, but there is just radio silence from him after that. He can only assume that means Courfeyrac has tossed Combeferre’s phone aside and taken its place in his hands. He has company? Enjolras has no idea what that means. But he puts it out of his mind as he enters his building and jogs up the stairs to his and Combeferre’s third floor walk-up. 

As he puts the key in the lock and lets himself in, a million things are running through Enjolras’ mind. He can start without Combeferre, doing a little research into local banks and checking out the tax-exempt requirements. He can work on a loose budget and then let Combeferre correct all his mathematical errors and oversights. There’s plenty he can do to keep himself busy until Combeferre gets home.

Enjolras sheds his bag the moment he gets inside the apartment, dropping it by the door as he toes off his shoes. His mind is focused on nothing but work as he pads through the living room toward his bedroom, intending to get his laptop. But he pauses mid-step when he sees a stockinged foot hanging over the arm of the couch, and suddenly Combeferre’s last text makes sense.

“R?” Enjolras asks, as though he doesn’t know that unmistakable mass of curls as he approaches the couch from behind. Grantaire is curled on his side, a throw pillow under his head, and his arms sort of hugging himself. The leg Enjolras first spotted is dangling off the couch’s arm and the other is bent in something of an awkward position. It’s clear he doesn’t quite fit on the couch at all, but that has never stopped Grantaire from being able to sleep somewhere.

Enjolras grabs the blanket that’s draped over the opposite arm of the couch, coming around the front to cover Grantaire. He is sorely tempted to nuzzle the expanse of belly that’s exposed by Grantaire’s shirt riding up, but he doesn’t really want to disturb his sleep. Enjolras figures that he must’ve really been tired to take a nap while waiting for him. There would be time for that belly nuzzle later, and he would certainly not forget to do it once he has the chance.

For the time being he just lays the blanket across Grantaire’s middle, it being just a little too small to completely cover him. His feet are left out, but it’s better than leaving him chilly. Enjolras looks down at him for a moment, and he looks so sweet and peaceful. Nobody would believe he can be such a little shit when he’s awake when he looks like an absolute angel while he sleeps. He’s Enjolras’ little shit, though, and so he crouches down, carefully slips a hand over the one Grantaire has resting near his face, and presses a soft kiss into the hair that’s fallen across his forehead.

Enjolras stands and shoves his hands into his pockets as he continues on to his bedroom, a soft smile curving his lips and a faint blush creeping across his cheeks.

\-----

The sleeping form on the couch is still for several seconds after Enjolras walks away. He isn’t really sleeping, though, not any longer. He isn’t even breathing; he can’t remember to.

Grantaire had actually been asleep, but the kiss roused him from his slumber. He didn’t want to open his eyes and let his boyfriend know that he had caught him in what Enjolras clearly thought was going to be his little secret show of affection, so he pretended to be asleep until he was sure Enjolras had left the room.

But the second he does, Grantaire lets out a soft rush of breath, slides his hand over his incredibly red face, and he proceeds to quietly freak out into the palm of his hand. Maybe one day he’ll get used to Enjolras doing those little things, covering him with a blanket and kissing him for no reason. Today is definitely not that day.

And, really, he’s pretty sure it will never come at all.


End file.
